Haunts Old And New
by Isobel Morgan
Summary: While Alex and Tom enjoy themselves at Alton Towers, Hal takes the opportunity to visit an old friend. Another item ticked off Alex's "Kicked the bucket" list - check out the clips on BBC Three's website/YouTube/the DVDs if you don't know what I'm talking about! Rating changed for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Haunts Old and New.**

**1.**

Tom and Alex were literally bouncing up and down in excitement as they pulled up in the car park. Hal winced.

"Please stop doing that. I'm not sure the suspension can take much more of your trampolining."

Grinning like children, his housemates continued to bounce in their seats.

"Although I suppose I should be grateful you've stopped asking 'are we there yet?'" he continued. But he couldn't maintain annoyance in the face of such irrepressible enthusiasm, despite the length of the drive.

"Oh, come on Hal!" Alex leaned through from the back seat and squeezed his arm.

"Come in with us! You don't have to go on any of the rides, just... hang out with us."

"For a whole week? No thank you. I think this is one item on your list that would be better shared with Tom."

"So, what are you gonna do with yourself?" Tom asked. "You're not just gonna sit out here, are you?"

"No, I thought I'd take the opportunity to look up some old friends. Revisit some old haunts."

"Hal! I told you, that word is extremely offensive," Alex huffed.

"I think you might be taking this political correctness a little too far," was Hal's response.

"Uh, who's the ghost here? I get to decide what offensive to my kind, thank you. And what do you mean, old friends? Vampire friends?"

"No. No, that wouldn't be a good idea."

Hal's hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"So it's another ghost, then?" Tom asked. "Like that Lady Mary?"

Sitting in the back seat, Alex couldn't see Hal's face and she cursed inwardly that she couldn't see it reflected in the interior mirror either to get any clues as to his reaction. There wasn't any point in getting jealous; in 500 years, Hal was bound to have collected a number of old friends, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

"No. Look, the park's about to open. Hadn't you better hurry?"

"Fine, be mysterious," Alex tried not to snap. "But call if you need us, yeah? If there's trouble, or you start... you know?"

She mimed 'fangs', holding her fingers up to her mouth.

Hal twisted around in his seat, amused but serious underneath.

"I will. Now, enjoy yourself. I'll come and get you when you're done."

"Sure. Tom, you better wait here a moment while I go steal you a wristband or something."

"Wait, you didn't say anything about stealing-"

But Alex had already vanished.

"How else d'you think we were gonna go on all the rides for free?" Tom asked.

"I'm more confused as to how she thinks she's going to get on any of the rides at all if no-one can see her."

"Don't worry about that. Alex'll find a way."

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure she will."

Tom's expression changed suddenly, glancing around to make sure Alex wasn't still around, looking worried.

"Look, you can't tell Alex this but I'm dead scared of heights."

"What?"

Hal was momentarily taken aback.

"Tom, you're a werewolf who's been fighting vampires since you were in short trous-"

He broke off, glancing down at his friend's bare calves.

"In _metaphorical_ short trousers. How are you scared of anything?"

"I've always hated being high up . McNair used to make me climb trees and stand on rooftops and that to make me get over it, but I still don't like 'em. I didn't wanna tell Alex cos she really wants to go on all these rides and I do too, but I'm really scared of them ones that go high up."

"Don't most of them do that?"

"Yeah. So you can't tell her."

"I think she'll find out anyway, Tom. Look, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. Or maybe I could-"

Hal couldn't quite finish that sentence, looking up at the giant amusement park that loomed ahead. Outside of his comfort zone didn't even begin to cover it.

"Nah, it's alright. You did the zoo trip. I wanna go in, and it'll make Alex happy."

The two men exchanged a glance, neither of them needing to say why it was important to both of them that Alex was happy. Even if she did like to play tricks on them sometimes.

"And you can always call me if you want to go home."

Hal fumbled with the mobile phone Alex had insisted he get, trying to press the correct tiny buttons for the functions he'd mastered.

"So long as you keep it charged, yeah? Plug it into a socket and that."

"I know how electricity works, Tom. I might not be 'up' on all the latest 'apps' but I can work a mobile telephone."

Tom grinned. He loved hearing Hal try to be all modern and 'down with the kids' as he put it, usually failing miserably. He might be dead old and posh and know all sorts of weird clever things about books and long words, but he was rubbish at talking like a normal person.

Alex re-materialised beside the car, knocking on the window. She waved a handful of tickets.

"This should sort us out! Come on Tom, let's go!"

"You sure you're gonna be okay?" Tom asked, still a bit concerned about letting his recently-relapsed vampire friend wander around unsupervised.

"I'll be fine. Will you?"

"Yeah. See ya."

Tom climbed out of the car and he and Alex practically skipped across the car park toward the entrance, where people were already queuing, despite the early hour. They turned back to wave at Hal, who raised a hand in response, then started the car and drove away, pausing only to re-tune the car stereo back to Radio 4. Alex's choice of music made a long journey _considerably_ longer.

"Right! What shall we do first?"

Alex's eyes were sparkling, her face lit up in excitement.

"You choose. It's your list thing."

She turned to face Tom, wondering if he'd been pestering Hal to teach him about chivalry again.

"Yeah, but this isn't all about me. I want you to have a good time too. You've never been anywhere like this before, have you?"

"Nah. McNair'd never've wasted money on something like this. Though I have been round the fair in Barry a bit."

Alex regarded him sympathetically.

"You didn't really get a childhood, did you? I mean, not to have a go, but it sounds like there wasn't much time for fun."

"Oh no, I had loads of fun! Like, when I was done makin' stakes, I could whittle anything I wanted. Never quite got the hang of making bunnies though. Couldn't get the ears right."

Alex thought of all the things she and her brothers had done, the games they played and how, despite them driving her up the wall, she had nothing but good memories of her childhood. Well, up until her mum left, but that was... forget that. You had to grow up sometime. But Tom had never had any of that, being trained more than he was raised.

She looked around, her eye falling on a skull-and-crossbones flag hanging from a pole.

"Hey, do you like pirates? Decky loved them – we had flags like that everywhere."

Tom followed her gaze, breaking into a broad grin.

"Yeah! Can I wear an eyepatch?"

"Why not? Come on."

* * *

Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish these were mine! But no.

Has Tom ever said he's scared of anything? I couldn't remember, so if this contradicts anything in the series, apologies.

I wanted this to be all light and fluffy but the next chapter gets a bit angsty, just to warn.


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

Hal stood in Minster Yard, staring up at the architecture, wondering if it was the only thing in the city that appeared unchanged. It had been finished by the time he was born, and therefore the only modifications were tourist related, or through repairs and conservation. The rest of the city – there was a lot of history, true, perhaps the layout was even recognisable but it wasn't the city he'd grown up in, where he'd lived when he was human. That was a long, long time ago, and he'd been so very different then. He hadn't gone back to York much, but he'd adopted its name as his own, which perhaps showed how much hold his past had on him still.

He turned and walked back down Minster Gates, past the bookshop, and the Fair Trade shop with the statue of Minerva perched protectively over it, and down onto Stonegate. He hadn't had much call to come into this part of the city as a child; there had been bookshops here even then, but young Hal couldn't even read. One of his mothers, Marie, had been insistent that he attend church and taught him the fundamentals of religion, but their church was smaller and far less grand than the Minster. Whores and bastard children were not welcome among the same pews as the rich and powerful. Perhaps he should try and go in now. He knew he was old enough that sacred ground had little effect on him.

Instead, he continued on his way, away from the church – although you were never far from a church in York, the city was lousy with them. Halfway down Stonegate an impulse made him swing left down Coffee Yard, a narrow passageway marked by a little red devil statue. He weaved his way through dark snickelways that made him almost nostalgic for his childhood. But everything was too clean. Not enough mud, no human waste flung from windows to lie in the gutter. Obviously that was a good thing, but... it was strange. Not as strange as where he emerged, onto the re-named Grape Lane. That was _not_ what it had been known as when Hal knew it. His mothers had plied their trade within the brothel he had been born in, but there was no shortage of other whores who used the overhanging roofs and dark corners of this street to seek out custom. Now it was chic boutiques and smart jewellery stores: Hal wondered if the owners and shoppers knew the history of the ground beneath their feet. The person he was here to see did know, that much he was sure of. But he wouldn't find her here.

Hal pressed on, following the labyrinthine alleyways until he came to the Shambles, another street that was unrecognisable. At least this one's past was no secret – the butchers that had worked here had no need to operate in the dark as the whores did, so that part of history was more openly recounted. Odd how people were less comfortable with the idea of prostitution than they were a street drenched in blood.

He saw her before she saw him, and that gave him the time to look her over, to see who she was this time around. She didn't change the way he did, remained the same person through the centuries, but she was still capable of reinventing herself, trying on new guises or creating a different facade to suit her surroundings.

Truth be told, he'd been surprised to find that she had returned to this city when he'd stumbled across her, entirely by accident while trying to accustom himself with the many uses of the internet, another thing Alex had insisted he learn about. Her picture in a local newspaper; it was unquestionably her and she had been surprisingly easy to find.

She was emerging from the tea shop, casually dressed but smarter than he remembered her; she'd always tended to be more bohemian in appearance. Her dark, almost black hair was cut shorter now, swept back in a ponytail and her lipstick matched the bright red of her dress, layered over black leggings with black Converse trainers on her feet. Not yet seeing Hal, she slung her bag over her shoulder and began to stride confidently away.

Hmm. Perhaps her skills were dwindling as the years progressed; she should have sensed his proximity by now, even if she had no idea he would be there. Hal stepped into a doorway and waited, arms folded, leaning on a post quite casually. Her step faltered and she slowed, stopped, then turned almost hesitantly back. Immediately, their eyes locked; hers widening in surprise, his crinkling with amusement.

"Fuck."

The young woman – well, she wasn't young, not really, but she didn't look a day over twenty-five – stared at him, one hand clutching the strap of her bag, the other drawing swift patterns in the air, slender fingers creating wards for her protection.

"Judith."

Hal stepped down from the doorway, making his way over to her.

"Harry."

The woman's eyes narrowed in concentration as she took him in, tilting to one side to get the measure of him.

"No, wait. Hal."

"Very good. I thought you might be losing your touch."

"Because I let you sneak up on me? Careless, perhaps, but then should I have a reason to be concerned about that?"

Her fingers were still moving, sketching invisible characters and symbols by her side and Hal felt the air around him tingle as her spell moved through him, reading him.

Judith visibly relaxed.

"Well, that's a relief. I left my stake in my other handbag."

"Good to see you too. I trust you're well?"

"Am I well?" Judith repeated, eyebrows raising. "What am I, your maiden aunt? You haven't come to visit me on sufferance, Hal. You don't need to speak to me like it's the eighteenth century, or I'm an old woman."

"Ah, but you are an old woman, aren't you?"

Hal stopped directly in front of her, deliberately invading her personal space.

"You must be one of only a handful of people in the whole world I can say that to and mean it."

"That's not quite so gentlemanly," Judith replied, tartly.

"One shouldn't draw attention to a lady's age."

"Even when she's almost three hundred years older than he? Surely there's some room to manoeuvre there?"

"And you always had such lovely manners. When you were on an upswing, anyway. The other you... well, I don't need to finish _that_ sentence, do I?"

Hal didn't reply. Like many people he had history with, the 'which version are you?' conversation always had to be gotten out of the way. It had been nice to avoid that the last fifty or so years he was living with Leo and Pearl.

"So... what are you doing here? Have you really come here just to see me?"

"And to revisit old haunts."

Hal glanced around at the tiny shops crammed into the narrow street.

"Some of them more recognisable than others."

"Tell me about it."

Judith turned, leading them both back down the Shambles.

"When I first moved back here, I went on one of those history guided tours. You know, the walking ones? Thought it might be fun, but after about ten minutes I started correcting the tour guide, telling them things I remember that aren't in any books and got thrown off the tour."

Hal smiled.

"Sounds like you."

"Says the man who taught his own history to impressionable young schoolboys," Judith retorted.

"In the nineteenth century!" Hal protested. "It was a private school, and the boys got a far better education from me than they would have from someone who'd only read books."

"Can you imagine what would happen if you tried that now? With all their National Curriculums and Parent Teacher Conferences. But anyway-"

She steered them across the road towards the Golden Fleece Inn.

"Talking of old haunts..."

Hal stared at the painted sign on the wall that proclaimed the pub the most haunted in the city.

"I think I remember this place."

"Built in 1503," Judith announced. "Almost as old as you, dear. Fancy a drink?"

She walked straight in. Hal shrugged, and followed her.

"Is this place really haunted?"

He looked around, as if expecting to see a dozen ghosts propping up the bar.

"Of course. Isn't everywhere? But they're old ghosts, mostly faded, little more than memories now. I'm surprised the normals even pick anything up at all."

"The 'normals'? Are you even trying to blend in?"

"That's the great thing about this century; I don't have to. It's normal to be weird and I won't get burned at the stake for announcing I'm a witch. Pint?"

Hal blinked in surprise. But it was true – the barmaid didn't react at all to Judith's announcement of her witchcraft skills, although she might have if she knew precisely what they were.

"Of what?"

"Two Hobgoblins," Judith ordered, passing the barmaid a ten pound note. "And one for yourself, sweetheart."

"A hobgoblin? Sounds like something you should have as a familiar."

"We don't have familiars, Hal," Judith replied breezily. "That's fairy tales and slander, as you well know. Now drink your pint like a good boy."

She picked up her own and marched off to find an unoccupied table. Hal regarded the glass of dark ale with suspicion, then joined her.

"So," Judith took a gulp of her ale. "Why are you here? How did you even know I was living here again?"

"Google."

Judith narrowed her eyes at him again, trying to tell if he was being serious.

"As to why... change of pace, I suppose. My current housemates are... quite a lot younger than I am, and I thought it might be nice to talk with someone who has a different perspective."

"Housemates?" Judith's eyebrows raised. "So you're mainstreaming again. Do they know what you are?"

"Oh yes."

Hal tasted his pint, grimacing.

"Funny you should mention hauntings, actually, because one of them is a ghost. Her name's Alex."

"A ghost housemate? Did she come with the house?"

"No, I..."

Hal wasn't quite sure how to finish that sentence.

"I met her before she died. She's staying with us until she figures out her unfinished business and moves on."

Again with the narrowing eyes.

"Is that your way of saying you killed her?"

"No! Absolutely not!"

Hal glanced around, but thankfully people were too engrossed in their own drinks and conversations to have heard Judith, who was giving him a hard stare.

"Don't act all slighted with me, Hal. I know what you're capable off, what you've done, perhaps better than anyone else does. It's a question that needed asking."

Hal couldn't argue that point.

"Look, I didn't kill her but I was... if she'd never met me, she'd probably still be alive."

It was a confession he didn't feel better for.

"That's why you're helping her move on?" Judith pressed.

"How very noble of you."

She took another gulp of her drink and Hal felt the air move around him again: another spell.

"Oh, wait, there's more? Your aura just changed."

"Don't do that-"

"You care about her."

It wasn't a question.

"That's none of your business, Judith."

Hal wasn't pleased to be reminded how intrusive Judith's skills could be.

"Jude. It's Jude now. And if you don't want to talk about your lady ghost friend, fine. Tell me about your other housemate. Are they dead too?"

"No, Tom's a werewolf actually."

Jude choked on her ale.

"What? You're living in a _Trinity_?"

"I've heard it called that, yes."

Jude stared, wide-eyed.

"Hal, you need to be careful; that's incredibly dangerous."

Hal couldn't follow her reasoning.

"What do you mean dangerous? It's better than living with humans, normal people; Tom and Alex aren't in danger from me because I can't drink from either of them."

"That's _not_ what I mean. Three supernaturals under one roof, that creates all kinds of energies you just can't get anywhere else. I'd keep quiet about it, if I were you. Who knows you live together?"

"Judith – Jude – I've been living in that set-up for more than fifty years. I'm sure it's fine."

"Wait, I'm confused. You said you were helping Alex move on, but it's taken more than fifty years?"

"Ah. No, Alex has only been a ghost for a few months. My current housemates – we've not been living together long. Before then – it was a different trinity."

Jude stared at him.

"Only you, Henry Yorke."

Hal didn't know if she was complimenting or insulting him; decided he didn't much care.

"So where are these friends of yours now?"

"Alton Towers."

Jude's incredulous expression grew and she burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh my. You _have_ changed."

"Not enough to have accompanied them."

"So what have you told them? They know you're here?"

"I said I was visiting an old friend."

"Is that what I am?"

Hal gave the question serious consideration before replying.

"I suppose that depends on who I am."

Jude's expression was just as solemn.

"Ain't that the truth."

They both took refuge in their pints.

"So, what made you come back here?" Hal asked, opting for safer ground. Or so he hoped.

Jude shrugged.

"Nostalgia, perhaps. Like you said; old haunts. This city, with all its history right on the surface; it's one of the few that doesn't make me feel my age."

"I would have thought it the other way around."

Jude smiled.

"This city is _far_ older than I am. There are so many ghosts here, it can be hard to breathe, but that reminds me that life is... transient."

"Transient?"

Hal was highly amused.

"How transient can it be when you're eight hundred and something years old?"

"_You_ can hardly talk."

"_I_ never said life is fleeting."

"Oh, shut up, Junior."

"Don't sulk, now. It's unbecoming in a lady."

Jude swallowed half her remaining pint in one mouthful.

"Tell me about your housemates, then. They know what you are, but do they know who you are?"

Hal's good humour faded.

"Yes. I'm not sure they believe all of it, but they know."

"How much?"

"Enough. I don't want to talk about that."

"Fine. What shall we talk about, then? You came all this way to see me. Why do that if you don't want to be reminded of your past? Like, I don't know, sixteen-whenever it was that you got me _arrested for witchcraft_?"

Jude's irritation flared into full-blown anger.

"You do remember that, don't you? That it was you that called the Witchfinder in, yes?"

Hal hadn't forgotten. There wasn't much he did forget.

"We've already had this argument, several times. That wasn't me. That was the other me. He decided you were becoming too dangerous."

"Oh, did he? Well, maybe you could tell him from me that he should've just cut my head off instead. Four months I was tortured in that cell, bound in iron. Funny how they knew to do that, isn't it?"

Hal got up.

"I think perhaps this was a mistake."

He turned on his heel and walked out of the pub.

Outside, Hal turned right, then right again, following Fossgate down toward the river, not really caring where he was going. He'd faced his transgressions before, over and over. He didn't want to do it again now.

A sign outside an upscale restaurant stopped him in his tracks. Proudly proclaiming it's notoriety in having once been a brothel, trading on its past to encourage custom, or perhaps simply owning up to it so as not to be forced into shame when secrets were uncovered.

As Jude caught up with him, Hal was staring at the sign with burning intensity. She stopped, a few feet away, hesitant.

"What is it?"

"I was born in a place like this."

She edged closer. Hal didn't move.

"I – I don't remember where it was. Somewhere against the walls, close to one of the Bars, I think. Why can't I remember?"

"The house I was born in was burned to the ground before I was old enough to know anything about it," Jude replied, her own voice tight with long-suppressed emotion.

"The locals had been stirred up in anti-Semitic fury by a man who thought the best way to avoid his debts was to massacre every Jew in the city. It worked, I suppose."

Hal turned to face her, his inner turmoil fading. She'd never told him that before.

"But if you want to find the ground where you were born, I can help you."

"Why would you do that?"

Jude sighed.

"Because you're not the man I'm angry at. Not really. I've been told I can hold onto a grudge-"

Hal remained diplomatically silent.

"But I think three to four hundred years is probably long enough."

"I'm sorry."

"For reporting me to the Inquisition? And if you quote that _bloody_ comedy sketch at me, I swear to everything I hold sacred I will stake you here and now."

Hal, not getting the reference but used to that, glanced around.

"Bit public for that, isn't it?"

Jude weaved her fingers in the air – meaningless gestures, but they got the point across.

"Maybe other you was right about me being dangerous."

"To be honest, I don't think he knew the half of it. But then that was why he wanted you out of the way."

Jude tutted.

"Vampires. I never met one that wasn't all snooty about magic until it suited them."

Hal allowed himself a small smile, the tension between them broken again.

"Tell you what, I'll cast the spell to find your birthplace if you finally win that bet."

"I already did. I don't know why you won't admit it."

"Because it isn't me in that Waterhouse painting. You still haven't found my painting and I found three of your portraits. Come on, I'll give you a clue.; it's in the art gallery here."

She held out her hand and, feeling oddly comfortable in her presence once more, Hal took it.

* * *

Disclaimer: I often forget to put these in: no, I didn't invent Being Human, oddly enough.

It's been pointed out to me that Hal is a bit all over the place in this chapter; that is intentional. Jude's known almost every version of him, and she tends to bring out different parts of him.

As for Jude – technically, she's a recycled character. A few years ago I wrote a "Robin of Sherwood" fic ('Daniel', chapter 6), featuring an ex-Jewish thirteenth century witch and I've wanted to update her since. This seemed the best opportunity. Her reference to an anti-Semitic uprising, is of course the Clifford's Tower massacre of 1190.

It was a few years back that I lived in York, so some things might be different than how I've written them, but the street names and so on are real. (Grape Lane, in case you're wondering, was once Grope Lane).


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

Alex stalked out of 'Gloomy Wood', face like thunder. Tom trailed after her, trying to think of the right thing to say.

"Look, I'm sure they didn't mean owt by it-"

"They called it 'Duel – The Haunted House Strikes Back!'" How is that meant to show ghosts in anything other than a bad light?"

Tom decided it wouldn't be a good idea to tell Alex he'd actually enjoyed the ride. She was practically spitting feathers, and he was glad no-one else could see her. He steered her into a quiet corner, hoping no-one would notice him talking to thin air.

"And what is it with this place? Haunted Hollow? Hex? Is there anything here that isn't conspiring to piss me off?"

"Alex. It's just meant to be a laugh. For kids and that. And it's not like they'd know you was coming."

"And that makes it okay? How would you feel if it was a ride where you had to shoot werewolves?"

Tom thought about that.

"You're right. I wouldn't like it. But...most people don't know we're real, and that's why they think it's fun. Cos it's scary, but they think it's pretend. Would you've felt this way before you was a ghost?"

"What's that got to do with anything? I just wanted to-"

Alex sat down on a bench, folding her arms in annoyance. Tom sat down beside her, wishing Hal were there to help him out. The vampire might be awkward and uncomfortable in social situations – especially those involving Alex - but he'd been around more of them than Tom had. McNair hadn't covered this when he'd tried to answer Tom's questions about talking to girls.

"Wanted to what?"

"Wanted to forget, just for a day. That I'm a ghost. That I'm dead."

"But - " Tom struggled to understand, to help.

"This is on your list. You're ticking stuff off so you can make your door appear."

"Not today! I mean, yeah, this is on my list but it's more something I always wanted to do than what I think is really keeping me here."

Alex sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I just wanted us to have a nice time. I didn't mean to spoil it."

"You didn't. Come on, there's lots of stuff left we haven't done."

Tom dug through the pockets of his combat shorts.

"I found this thing on the map. They built, like, an aquarium that's supposed to be a shipwreck with loads of fishes and seahorses and that. You know, if you wanna be pirates a bit longer."

He pulled the eyepatch that was hanging around his neck up over one eye and grinned.

Alex, reminded irresistibly of her younger brothers, smiled back. There was something so... huggable about Tom when he was all sweet and excited at the same time.

"Why not?"

She leapt to her feet and they dashed across the park, giggling like children.

They'd been exploring the Reef for about ten minutes before Tom broke.

"I've got a confession to make."

Alex made a 'hmm?' noise, too interested in the manta ray drifting by to pay much attention.

Tom looked around, making sure no-one else was close enough to hear.

"I didn't just bring you here to look at fish."

Alex turned to look at him, unsure what was coming.

"No?"

"No. I brought you here cos of them."

Tom pointed up ahead, to where other visitors were walking into the transparent tunnel through the aquarium tank, looking up at the creatures swimming all around them.

Curiosity peaked, Alex followed where he indicated.

"There, see? I saw you had them on your list too."

"Sharks!"

Alex's face lit up, turning back to her housemate. Tom's expression was hopeful.

"I can't speak French, or do all that wooing stuff like Hal can. And I didn't know how to steal a priceless diamond and that, but when I saw this on the map, I thought-"

"Oh, Tom!"

Alex flung her arms around his neck, cutting him off.

"You're a lovely wee man, you know that?"

Tom looked pleased.

"Did I do right, then?"

"You did very right. Do you think I could, you know, actually swim with them? The keepers won't see me, but the sharks might."

"Yeah, but they can't hurt you, can they? Give it a try. I'll wait here."

Grinning wildly, Alex looked around the tank, and vanished.

Tom leaned against the glass, watching clownfish dart among the plants. He knew Alex sort of saw him as a younger brother, and acted all motherly towards him. It was nice to look after her, when he could.

It took a minute, but then there she was. No longer needing to breathe, Alex was taking a moment to adapt to underwater swimming, treading water and watching the fish swim around her, surprisingly unworried by the appearance of a ghost in their water. Then she somersaulted, swimming downwards to where the sharks were lazily circling the sunken galleon.

Tom watched Alex tick another item off her "kicked the bucket" list and realised he hadn't really thought before now; what would he have on his list, if he were to make one? Sharks wouldn't be on it.

Allison might.

And bunnies.

* * *

A lighthearted interlude among the angst of the centuries-old vampire and witch.

I haven't actually been to Alton Towers in ten years or so, and most of the details come from the website.

BTW The Restaurant from the last chapter is the Blue Bicycle, and yes, it is very open about having once been a brothel.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

"That one."

Hal pointed at the painting they stood before.

"That _has_ to be you."

Jude shook her head, amused.

"This is going to take decades, isn't it?" Hal sighed.

"Assuming you're telling the truth at all, and any of these portraits are you."

"Oh, one of them is me," Jude replied. "But not any of John William Waterhouse's, and not-"

She leaned forward to read the description of the painting.

"A Bacchante by William Etty."

"Looks like you. Or the way you looked, back then," Hal insisted.

"Something in the eyes."

"Thank you. For implying I'm a frenzied worshipper of Lord Dionysus."

"Not far from the truth, is it?" Hal snarked.

"My maker is _not_ a Greek god," was Jude's rather haughty reply.

"Although-" she relented. "If I were going to choose from any pantheon, he'd probably be top of the list. Drinking, dancing and sex? Beats hymns and preaching, doesn't it?"

"I think you and I see the world in rather different ways."

"_You_ do. _He_ would agree with me."

Hal suppressed a shudder at that partial truth.

"If I were him, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Or any conversation for that matter."

"Touché."

They continues their procession through the gallery.

"Have you seen him recently? Your – maker?"

"No."

Jude was thoughtful.

"Not for centuries. I don't know if he's still even alive. Or whatever word is appropriate for a demon."

"I thought if he died, so did you. Wasn't that the bargain you made with him?"

"To be honest, I don't remember. It's not like I got a written contract, and the exact words – well, it has been over eight hundred years. Do you remember what your army surgeon asked of you when he recruited you?"

"Yes. Every word."

Jude glanced over at him. Hal's face was tight with the effort of suppressing the memory, and probably a number of other things too.

"Moving swiftly on..."

Jude put her hand on Hal's arm, her other hand held down by her side, out of his sight, weaving more of her invisible symbols in the air. Hal jerked away from her as the spell hit him, breaking it before it could take effect.

"For God's sake! Must you do that all the time?"

"What else do you expect from a witch? I'm trying to help you."

"I don't want your help! Not that sort of help!"

The attendant in the corner shushed them and Hal realised people were staring. He hadn't meant to raise his voice so loud, but then Judith always could provoke him far more easily than he'd realised.

"No?"

Jude lowered her own voice to a whisper.

"Perhaps I should remove all my spells from you? Even the one that stops you hearing my heart beating? The blood racing in my veins?"

Hal turned from her abruptly, staring intently at the nearest painting, hands clenching into fists. He forced himself to count, slowly, wishing he'd brought something with him to use as a focus. There were too many people around. So much noise. So many heartbeats...

Jude stood behind him, close but not touching. Her voice in his ear.

"I can block them all out. For a little while. If you let me."

Hal struggled. He didn't like magic, certainly didn't want to end up relying on it, replacing one addiction for another. And the thought of Jude holding that over him, should she choose too... He should never have come here on his own. He needed his friends.

His hand went to the phone in his pocket, taking it out and bringing up Tom's number; Alex carried her phone out of habit, as much a part of her as the clothes she wore and he couldn't call it any more than anyone else could but Tom had taken to smartphones surprisingly easily.

He stared at the screen, wanting more than anything right then to be back home in Barry, with his friends. But... they were having a good time, and he didn't want to interrupt that. Just knowing they would be there for him... that would be enough.

Hal closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the roaring of other people's blood in his ears. He didn't need that any more. He wouldn't be a slave to it. He _wouldn't_.

When he re-opened his eyes, Jude was staring at him, mildly impressed.

"Well. Get you."

"I think we're done here."

Hal's voice was cold, but Jude grabbed his arm.

"Wait. There's something I want you to see first."

"Jude, I-"

"Come on."

She pulled him across the room, toward a selection of portraits and, to his intense surprise, Hal found himself looking at – his own face.

It took him a moment to recognise himself, but then he remembered sitting for this portrait, many, many years ago.

"I thought, as you can't see your own reflection, this might be refreshing."

"Yes. Yes, you're right this is... very strange."

The likeness was good, that's what everyone had said, and Hal had had to take their word for it. Certainly the painter had charged enough money and Hal remembered the man grumbling about how hard it was to get the eyes right, that Hal never had the same look in them from one day to the next.

The man in the painting looked kind and there was an affection in his expression that was directed at the portrait's commissioner, standing behind the artist on the day he'd finally captured the right look in Hal's eyes.

Hal choked, the memories swarming up to engulf him

"Oh God. _Sylvie_."

This had been her present to him, to show him the face that was no longer reflected back at him, in the same way that Jude was showing this to him now. Only... it hadn't been long after this painting was finished that Hal had been swallowed up by the new man whose turn it was. The one who had butchered Sylvie in their bedroom, leaving behind only a memory that burned.

Too much. This – he couldn't –

Hal turned and ran from the gallery.

Why had he thought old haunts was a good idea? When his past was littered with murder and destruction? Even the good memories were soured, those that didn't drown in the screams of the dead. This city, the one that had given him birth – he should never have come back here.

Jude caught up with him just as he left the building, the sound of traffic in Exhibition Square jarring with the noise in his head, it was all so _loud_, he couldn't block it out.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him around to face her and for a moment all he could see were her dark eyes.

**"_Sheket_."**

And then it all went quiet.

Hal woke, and everything was white. There was silence, cool, blessed silence and for a moment he revelled in it.

Then he realised he had no idea where he was.

He sat up. He was in bed – not his own bed; the mattress was too soft and there were no hospital corners – in a small, cosy, whitewashed room. There was a dresser covered in tiny bottles and make-up, a chair draped in women's clothing and on the stand by the bed, a cup of tea waited. He reached out and touched the china – it was hot, the tea steaming gently.

A knock at the door.

"You decent?"

Hal glanced down at himself, then around the room– his shirt and jeans were folded neatly and placed at the foot of the bed. His leather jacket hung on the back of the door, his shoes against the wall. But he had no memory of putting them there. He hopped out of the bed, pulling on his jeans quickly as Jude opened the door.

"Sleep well?"

"What happened? How did I get here?"

"I spellbound you," she responded, matter-of-factly.

"You were - becoming upset and I wanted to bring you somewhere safe. This is my house."

"I assumed as much. I thought I said I didn't want your help."

"Want or not, you needed it. So I blocked everything out and let you sleep it off. You feel better now, don't you?"

"That's not the point!" Hal replied, irate. "And was it entirely necessary to undress me?"

Jude shrugged, pulling her dressing gown closer around her.

"It's been a very long time since there was a man in my bed. I thought I'd see if I was missing out on anything."

Hal tugged on his shirt, more than a little self-conscious.

"Well, thank you for your _hospitality_, but I think I'll be going now."

He snatched up his shoes, trying to grab his jacket but Jude pushed the door further open, keeping it from his reach.

"Hal, look, I'm sorry. But I couldn't let you run around York like that. It wouldn't have been safe, for anyone. And there's no harm done; I promise all I did was bring you here and put you to bed. Nothing more."

"Fine."

"Will you at least stay for a cup of tea? I'd rather we parted as friends this time."

Jude's demeanour was awkward, and Hal relented.

"Alright. But you so much as _think_ of casting another spell on me and-"

Jude held up her hands.

"I promise. No magic. Just tea."

Hal put his shoes back down, sitting on the bed and picking up the cup and saucer. The tea was welcome- his throat was very dry. Jude brought in her own cup, sitting down beside him.

"So – this is your house. Do you live alone?"

"Oh yes. I haven't lived with anyone since... well, since Jacquetta."

"Jacquetta? But I met her. That was-"

"1865. You introduced us."

"And how did you repay me? By stealing her from her husband and losing me my job!"

"What, that teaching job? Hal, you were wasted there and you know it."

"I _liked_ that job," Hal replied hotly. "It was quiet there, and I could live my own life."

"Maybe you shouldn't have introduced me to the mothers of your pupils, then. It wasn't as if you didn't know what I was like."

"I could hardly have predicted - No, you're right. I did know what you were like. I just never imagined she would be so susceptible."

"She wasn't just susceptible. She was astonishing."

Jude's eyes wandered across the room to a hand-drawn sketch that hung framed on the wall. Hal hadn't noticed it before, but he recognised the woman immediately.

"How long were you together?"

"Forty years. We travelled the world together, being delightfully scandalous. Then she got sick, and I couldn't heal her. I even-"

Jude dropped her gaze to the floor.

"I even thought about calling one of yours in, to turn her. So I wouldn't lose her. My maker was nowhere to be found and I didn't know what else to do. But she didn't want that and so she died and broke my heart."

"They do that. Humans."

"Little mayflies, every one. I kept in touch with her boys. They both died fighting abroad, in one war or other and now there's nothing left of her on this earth but that."

Jude looked back up at the picture.

"And what's in here."

Jude touched her fingertips to her temple. Hal took her hand, and pressed it against his own forehead.

"She's in here too."

Jude gave a little hiccup of shock, her expression momentarily vulnerable. Then she turned her head away, hiding her hundred-year-old grief.

"So, that painting of you," Jude announced, masking her heartache with an ease Hal envied.

"It says "portrait of unknown man," and it doesn't mention who commissioned it. You said 'Sylvie.' Was that her?"

Hal closed his eyes. The pain was less now the shock had faded. Maybe also from what Jude's spell had done.

"Yes. We were together for some years until... _he_ came back. I haven't been able to let myself love anyone since."

"Except your ghost girl."

Jude swung her bare legs off the end of the bed.

"You called out her name a few times when you were sleeping. The temptation to read your dreams was very strong, but I thought I'd done enough already."

Hal chose to ignore that.

"How long was I asleep for?" he asked. Jude avoided his eyes.

He looked out of the window, where the sun was setting.

"Hours?"

"Um..."

"More?"

Hal checked his watch.

"Did you make me sleep a whole day away?"

"Uh, more like two. And a bit."

"I was asleep for more than _two days_?"

Jude looked apologetic.

"Sorry. I guess I... overestimated the spell a bit. I was worried about what would happen if you lost control of yourself and I think I pushed a bit too hard."

Hal took the phone out of his pocket. The screen was blank, the battery flat. Had Tom or Alex tried to call? He pressed the buttons, but nothing happened.

"I don't have the charger with me. Do you-?"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence before Alex appeared in the room.

"God, you're hard to find!"

Her expression changed –surprise, to discomfort and mild annoyance as she took in bare-footed Hal, sitting on a bed with a strange woman who was only wearing a fairly skimpy thigh-length dressing gown, both of them drinking tea.

"Well, isn't this cosy?"

"Alex! I-"

Hal put down his teacup, not quite knowing what to say.

"You weren't answering your phone."

Alex's tone was cool.

"We got worried, so I tried Rentaghosting to you. Which was a lot harder than it looks."

"That's probably my fault," Jude interjected, amused at the sudden arrival of a jealous ghost in her bedroom.

"There are a number of protective wards on the walls of this house."

"What? Hal, aren't you going to introduce me to your 'friend' here?"

"Of course," Hal stuttered, years of habit pushing him to politeness.

"Alex, this is Judith – Jude. An old friend. Jude, this is-"

"Oh, I know who you are."

Jude got up, and to the immense surprise of everyone else in the room, enveloped Alex in a hug. Alex stiffened and Hal leapt to his feet.

"Jude, don't!"

Jude drew back, rolling her eyes.

"You know, I can go five minutes without using magic. See? Nothing?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alex demanded.

"Hal, who is she?"

"Jude is a witch. An 800 year old witch I have a somewhat... complicated history with."

"828 years old, actually," Jude added, but Alex wasn't listening to her.

"Complicated? Yeah, I can see that."

She looked over the rumpled bedsheets, their various levels of undress, reaching a conclusion she didn't much like.

"So, witches are real, too? And that's your thing, is it?"

"What? Alex, no, nothing happened. Not like that."

"Don't fret, little ghost."

Jude smiled, enjoying Hal's discomfort and Alex's mistrust.

"There's no need to be envious of me. Let's just say that, well, you're more my type than he is."

Alex looked at Jude, then over at an embarrassed Hal, then back to Jude.

"Okay, fine. Whatever. But we were still worried about him. Is he – is everything alright?"

"I'm fine. I just – the phone battery is flat."

Alex relaxed a little.

"Tom said you'd forget to charge it. I said, no, Hal never forgets anything, but here we are!"

"Again, that's my fault," Jude spoke up. "I'm sorry if I gave you cause for alarm."

"Are you alright?" Hal asked Alex. "You and Tom? How was Alton Towers?"

"It was good, yeah. But we've been on every ride at least twice and I think we're ready to go home now. How about you?"

"Yes. Yes, I think home would be a very good idea."

Hal picked up his shoes once more, slipping into them.

"Should I come with you, or go back to Tom?"

Alex was still a little on edge, concerned about what had happened while she and Tom weren't there to intervene.

"Where is he?"

"I left him playing Crazy Golf. He should be okay for a couple of hours."

"Then, yes. I'd like it if you came with me. I just need to find the car. Where are we?"

Hal directed the last question to Jude.

"St Andrewgate. What about that other thing you wanted to find? Do you still want my help with that?"

Alex looked suspiciously at the two of them, but Hal seemed quite calm now.

"No. No, thank you. I think that can maybe wait for another time."

"Okay."

Jude looked disappointed, but she didn't push it.

"But if you do ever need my help, don't hesitate to call me."

Her expression grew very intense. She rose up on her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear.

"He's very close. I can help you keep him away. Keep everything quiet."

Hal gently moved her away.

"No, thank you. I'd rather not resort to those methods, unless absolutely necessary."

He took his jacket from the back of the door, swinging it over his shoulders.

"But thank you for the tea. Come on, Alex. Let's go home."

He walked out. Alex gave Jude another wary look, then followed him down the stairs and out the front door.

"Stay in touch!" Jude called.

Hal turned back.

"Only if you stay out of trouble."

"That goes both ways."

She came up to the door, her fingers rubbing over the painted symbols on the frame.

"Don't make me have to rescind my invitation in, Hal."

Hal took her hand and raised it to his lips.

"Don't make me have to call in the Inquisition again. Adieu."

Then, taking Alex's hand, they walked away. Alex only just managed to resist the urge to give Jude the middle finger.

"So... witches can see ghosts too? I guess that's good to know."

"Perhaps."

"Are you sure you're okay? Did anything else happen? Anything I should know about?"

Hal sighed.

"No, nothing happened. Not really. But – this wasn't such a good idea. My being on my own. I'm better with you. You and Tom."

Alex grinned.

"Damn straight."

"Magic has its uses, but it tends to make me a little... uneasy in Judith's presence."

"I'm not surprised! She was super creepy. And was she hitting on me?"

Hal smiled.

"Perhaps in a different situation, she might have. But not just then."

"So you two really haven't... you didn't."

"No. We've been acquainted for many centuries, but we have never been lovers."

"Good."

Alex perhaps gave away a little too much in that one word.

"I thought it would be beneficial for me to speak with someone else who has been alive for as long as I have. Longer, in her case. But maybe the past should be left where it is."

Alex really wanted to ask him what he meant by that. But she knew she might not like the answer.

"Home, then."

"Home. That sounds better than old haunts."

"You're still using that word! How many times, Hal?"

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Actually, I've got a confession to make."

"Oh, don't tell me you're scared of heights too?"

"What? No. Who's scared of heights?"

"Never mind."

Alex put two and two together.

"Oh, you mean Tom. That would explain all the screaming. I thought it was a bit much. And there were a couple of rides I thought I was gonna have to break his fingers to get him to let go of the handrails when they stopped. But no, nothing like that."

"What then?"

Alex stopped walking, suddenly fidgety.

"I didn't really kiss Robert Downey Junior. I didn't even try to go to America and find him."

Hal tried to hide a smile.

"I did wonder. Thought it was a bit far for you to Rentaghost."

"I don't know, Maybe I could have. But... it just seemed a bit stupid. And you and Tom have been great about all the other stuff on my list. Maybe I can move on without kissing someone I've never met."

This time, Hal let his smile surface.

"We'll see. Come on, then. Let's go pick Tom up, and go home."

* * *

The JW Waterhouse painting Hal mentions is "The Magic Circle." Likewise, the "Bacchante" painting also exists; although York Art Gallery is currently closed, you can see it online.

There are a number of "Portraits of Unknown Men" too, although unfortunately, none are actually Hal.

I'd been interested to hear what people thought of Jude; I wanted her to be sympathetic while making it clear her reliance on magic is as much of an addiction as Hal's is to blood, but that she hasn't truly realised this in over 800 years, whereas he can see that accepting her offer, using it to control his condition would end up just as bad as giving in to it.

I'm not entirely sure of Hal's timeline either; he was evil in 1855, that much I can remember, but he could have reverted to good Hal in time to be teaching Jacquetta's sons in 1865. The idea for him being a teacher came from the little notes he wrote on Alex's list, which are very schoolmasterly.


End file.
